Go Back
by we all can
Summary: Something I wanted to post, but it suddenly left off. I tried to fix it but it messed up. The premise of the story is that Steve keeps Italy after the other nations are gone.


He slammed the clock to the floor, ignoring the blood running down his fingertips as he picked it up, thowing it down over and over, but the ticking of the clock wouldn't go away. He listened, hearing soft footsteps, his senses acute after running with his friends for so long. He knew who it was, and he froze, form half bent and on his knees. His instincts urged him to _**runrunrunRUN**_, but he was just so _tired_.

He didn't move from his spot, even when small glass pieces embedded themselves into his skin, burning as his flesh healed over the glass, the tiny bits running under his skin, piercing and painful. But he scarcely kept himself from screaming and crying out as the monster pushed him down, his body going limp like a ragdoll, right cheek falling into the shattered mirror pieces, from when he threw it at the monster days previously, cutting his cheek wide open, his teeth visible from the pieces of seperated flesh.

"**StUpId NaTiOn, We SeE eVeRyThInG yOu Do. iT iS uSeLeSs To TrY tO rUn AwAy FrOm Us, We WiLl FiNd YoU nO mAtTeR wHaT." **It chided as it lifted him up, staring unfazed at the horrendous wound that would no doubt scar terribly in the future. Italy's eyes widened as he tried to scramble away from his massive arms, blood splattering as he breathed heavily, flaps of skin fluttering slightly as he saw the crimson liquid shower from his lips.

He tasted blood, a iron-y type of taste that made him think of how horrible it would be to be a vampire, living on the stuff to live. The alien grip on him tightened as the nation made a weak effort to escape his hospitality, large black eyes staring at him with a slight annoyance as it carried him out of the room. Italy eventually gave up; what was the point if the other was going to eat him. He had given up on ever escaping with his friends, so maybe he'd see Grandpa Rome and Germany and Japan and America and... he went down the list of all the countries that had gone into the house, but never, not even once, made it back out. He remembered a fuzzy face, a blonde boy; his first love as much as he knew.

He looked to see where the monster had taken him to, but only saw a dark silver color, his face burried in the cold, slimy skin of the extaterrestrial. He parted eagarly with the piece of flesh, heart clenching painfully when he remembered how he used to do the same to Germany, only he usually kept his head there longer, pretending to be asleep while the blonde carried him with relative ease. He looked at the strange, wide metal doors, a series of locks covering the sleek grey material, chains connecting them rusty and red with- what he hoped was- age.

He was shifted to the alien's right arm, squirming as he once more made a vain effort to escape the tight grasp, only to have the monster growl at him, a deep angry rumbling that made him freeze in place, going limp once more. The door was opened to show a lavish room, random items thrown here and there. There was a moderately sized bed, a small wooden drawer sitting beside it, a delicately placed compact mirror laying open on top of it. He was messily thrown down, and he proceeded to squiggle away like a nervous worm from a mole. His back gently hit the table on the other side of the room, the farthest he could wriggle away from his captor in the short limit of time he was given. He watched the grey being, wary of his sudden choice of not immediately killing him, before deciding that the other wouldn't have given him this much time without an attack. Though still tense, he looked away, looking at the other objects in the room.

The door suddenly slammed shut, chains fastening in place. He leapt towards the door, frantically scratching at the metal, terrified beyond belief. "Don't leave me alone! Please! Please! Pleasepleaseplease_pleasepleaseplease**! Please!" **_He didn't care who it was anymore, all he knew was that he was alone, and alone was bad. He sobbed as he remembered the dark room. He remembered when Mr. Austria got lost, and Miss Hungary had to go find him, leaving poor Feliciano in the room for hours on end, depending on how lost the nation got and where he ended up. He eventually fell asleep, cheeks raw and red from the force of the sobs he let out during the night, arms wrapped around himself in a self-comforting hug, head buried in his arms like one would a strong chest.

Night One Was Complete


End file.
